


24 / 7

by AnotherRickInTheWall



Category: Actor RPF, Game of Thrones (TV), Game of Thrones RPF, Real Person Fiction
Genre: F/M, Heavy Petting, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Mentions of Sex Toys, Pedro Pascal being a gentleman, insomniac people, mentions of oral sex, nothing too graphic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-18
Updated: 2021-03-18
Packaged: 2021-03-27 04:27:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,460
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30117144
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnotherRickInTheWall/pseuds/AnotherRickInTheWall
Summary: A little corner diner, insomniac people and the one in a million chance to bond over a chocolate milkshake and maybe more...
Relationships: Pedro Pascal/Original Character(s), Pedro Pascal/Reader
Comments: 2
Kudos: 2





	24 / 7

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to my little one-shot, like the tags say, nothing too graphic, besides a few mentions of smutty times.
> 
> Lovely people, this is my first ever published and actually finished FanFiction. I wrote it when I couldn't sleep and imagined what would happen if the reader would bump into the man himself. I usually name my OFC(s) just for the better reading flow but there's no real description of her appearance so just feel free to imagine whatever look you prefer.
> 
> I am a non native speaker, though I tried my best, there might be some mistakes in spelling and grammar. I hope you still enjoy it and feedback is more than welcome for a rookie like me.
> 
> Oh I don't own anything beside my plot and OFC. I never met Pedro and the Pedro in this fic is purely imaginary. I hold nothing but respect for this man and his acting. He's a precious being by gifting us with his SpaceDad performance.
> 
> Stay safe and sane!

The dingy diner was opened for the lost souls of new York 24/7. That's why she ended up in it. Taking up the space in the very last booth at the end of the room, offered her the best view of the broken existences trickling by. She sat down with an exhausted sigh. The light was dim and low music poured out of the battered music box behind the counter.   
Absentmindedly she hummed the old 50's song along, swirling her milkshake in the process. She didn't consciously chose this particular diner but as an insomniac she needed to find a cosy place to get tired and the diner wasn't far from her own flat. It seemed empty enough so that she wouldn't be bothered too much. The waitress and the cook were talking about their weekend plans, seemingly knowing each other. Maybe they're a couple, the thought entered her mind with a force she didn't expect. It was like a vacuum hook, irremovable until fingernails were used to pull it off the surface it clung to. Maybe because she secretly hoped that she would meet someone who'd make plans with her. It had been a long time since she felt the warmth of another human being when she came home from work.   
Glancing back outside, she watched as the thick flakes of winter silently covered the whole city in a muted white. Evening out everything that was off balance. Snow made no difference. It was white on a poor person's clothing and it was white on a rich person's clothes. Truly mesmerised by the huge snowflakes passing the window she kept staring, her mind blissfully blank for the time being.   
She basked in this state of mind for a while until the obnoxious ring of the little bell above the door shook her back to reality. A person stepped in, a large man, given the broad shoulders and the mop of dark curly hair, damp with snowflakes. Much like the thick framed glasses he was wearing. While he was languidly strolling in the direction of her booth he took the now fogged up glasses off. That was when the deepest of chocolate coloured eyes landed on her. And she had the feeling that an abyss stared right into her soul. That he was sporting a bedhead par excellence made it even harder for her to look away. He had his coat draped over the crook of his elbow carrying it with the poise of a seasoned model or something like that. This man was nothing short but gorgeous.  
He sat down in the opposite booth to hers. She thought he would move away but he didn't. He sat with his back to the door perched on the edge of the bench closest to the aisle, being able to observe her face. She'd wanted to shrink away under his penetrative glance but she couldn't find it in herself to move, react or throw him a snarky remark about how impolite it is to stare at strangers. She just sat there being just as rude as him in her staring. She shook her watch to get a look at the time...But the display remained dark. "Frick..." She muttered under her breath and tried to find a watch somewhere in the diner, although the obvious solution was at hand. Tilting her body towards the handsome stranger she quietly asked "Hey, you got the time? My watch just died and the phone's at home." His eyes snapped up, seemingly surprised that she was talking to him. He fumbled in his pocket to fish his phone out "Uh... Sure. It's 2.45." "Thanks. I broke my record tonight, two hours of sleep. New negative highlight." Scrunching her brows she shook her head "Sorry, didn't mean to bother you. Enjoy your... Whatever you ordered." The corner of his mouth pulled up into a humourless half-smile "I told the waitress to bring me whatever you're having... You seem to enjoy it quiet much." A grin settled on her face "Well, then I hope you like chocolate milkshake, blended with fish sauce and cheddar on top." She had to stifle a laugh while taking in his reaction, which was a quick change of disgust, confusion and the epiphany that she was messing with him. "Are you always like this when talking to strangers?" he inquired. "Only when I talk to strangers which seem as lost as I am. What brought you here?" "Ah… the classic jet-lag. I usually give myself a day or two to breathe in the good ol' NYC again because jumping right of the plane and going back into US time never works." The more he talked the more she found herself shuffling over to his side. His voice was the most soothing thing she has heard in ages, a slight rasp accompanied the smooth velvet like baritone. "Your voice is fucking amazing." She muttered, never intending to speak it out loud but it just happened. In the dim light she could see a slight blush creeping over his features. "Uh.. thanks I guess. I mean I should be used to it but I somehow can't take compliments that good." he said while scratching the back of his head. Her eyes went wide. "Double frick! I didn't mean to tell you this heads on, sorry I am usually not that forward with strangers... Although you don't seem so strange, somehow familiar..." she trailed off, thinking hard on where she had seen him. And then it clicked. "Holy flying cow... Red Viper! I knew I fricking saw your face somewhere, although it was just a few memes and shit, because I am not that into Game of Thrones. I can't believe it, what are the odds that I meet Pedro frickin Pascal at like 3 in the morning in a dingy corner diner!? Holy Crap." after a pause she continued "Sorry I didn't mean to freak out like this but I've never met anyone famous since I moved here." His eyebrows rose and his mouth formed a thin smile. "Well I guess the cat is out of the bag now, it was nice as long as it lasted." She tilted her head brows scrunching confused together only then he realized how his words must've sounded. "Geez.. fuck, ah I did-didn't mean it like that and you seem quiet relaxed, most people start asking for pictures or autographs or a hug once they know who is in front of them. But you seem chilled, different to all those hardcore fans..." Cutting him off, she interrupted " 'cause I am no hardcore fangirl. I know that you are still a human being with likes and dislikes and I always thought that if I would be famous that I'd really appreciate it when people wouldn't bother me, so I guess I am just being reasonable." He threw her a crooked smile. "Thanks. And sorry for being so snappy." in return her smile started to reach her eyes as well "Never mind, New York is as annoying as it is beautiful, bristling with life, so moments like these are rare. Enjoy it. I'll be quiet now. But one last thing... Tell the waitress again to get you your milkshake she seems to be a bit too busy with flirting with the cook, and that shake is quiet amazing." With that she retreated into her corner by the window again.  
Quickly he reminded the waitress of his order and slid over to sit directly in front of her. "Hey, now… No need for tactical retreat. I kind of enjoy your company. Maybe we can talk some more over another shake...My treat?" the look he gave her was one to die for. Signalling her defeat she lifted her hands into the air "Alright you got me. You know that not a single living being is capable of resisting those fricking puppy dog eyes.." His eyes lit up and crinkled as a grin split his face, showing off tiny dimples. "Maybe I've been told once or twice." Slurping up the rest of her shake she just hummed a mock believe, knowing exactly that those eyes charmed their way into many panties and surely obtained countless favours because it was simply not possible that anyone could say no to those sparkling chocolate orbs. The waitress came and placed the glasses in front of them, throwing Pedro a sultry smile but he just thanked her and turned his focus back to their conversation, waiting for her to make the first move. "Alright.. you wanted to talk… Shoot. What you wanna know?" she asked with a low voice. Tapping his chin he said "Well the first is one is easy... What's your name?" She nodded her acknowledgement "Solid. That's good. I'm Holly. Nice to meet you." He nodded, extending his hand. "Pleasure to meet you." a firm handshake left her own fingers warm and tingling.  
"'right... My turn. Uhm..." She pretended to think about her question, snapped her fingers and said "Ha, that one's not so easy, I hope." cocking his right eyebrow as if he silently dared her to bring it on. "Okay, so which types of characters are the hardest to play for you and why?" he blew raspberries and chuckled. He really had the audacity to laugh at her question. "What!? I think that was an excellent question." she waved her hand around, the straw caught at the rim of the glass and with an upwards movement of her hand, she tipped it over effectively splattering its content on his face, neck and upper body. An exasperated gasp escaped her, her eyes growing wide, face contorting into an apologetic look. Frantically grabbing the tiny napkins, she dabbed them onto him, while simultaneously muttering strings of apologies.  
He wasn't really angry, maybe annoyed. Walking home with a huge light brown stain on his shirt was one thing but walking home with a wet stain while it was snowing in New York was a nightmare. It would freeze in no time and knowing himself he'd sure as hell catch a cold. He wasn't having that. So when she told him that her flat was just two blocks away he readily accepted her offer of washing his shirt and sweater.  
He paid, handing her his coat as he didn't dare to sully it with shake leftovers as well.   
They set a brisk pace towards her place, neither of them willing to spend more time in the crisp winter air than necessary.  
A contend sigh left his lips as she closed the door behind them. "So this is me. Sorry for the mess... I obviously didn't expect visitors." he saw a blush creeping from her neck to her cheeks. Waving her off he took in the small yet cosy flat. A loft bed was built into the corner by the huge window, making more room for a desk and working station, right under the window there was a canapé, littered with blankets and books. She gestured to her right "Kitchen nook is over there, bathroom right around the corner." He nodded and began to move to the dark Cherrywood door, when his wrist was grasped. "Wait, I.. uh I'll fetch you a shirt you can wear while I wash your stuff." he watched her bustling off to a long stretched chest of drawers connection the working station with the kitchen nook. Rummaging around in it she dug out a navy blue shirt, waving it around triumphantly. "That's the only one big enough to fit you, it's from my best friend, he usually forgets something while he's here."   
He thanked her and closed the door behind him, leaning against the door and releasing a breath he wasn't even aware of holding. Being engulfed by the very essence of her being had turned him into a silent observer, it was always like that when he met someone he was interested in, he got intimidated and shy. He crunched his brows and silently vowed that he would at least make good small talk. He could tell her something from his time as an acting student, those were fun times.  
Once changed he looked around if he should at least get the washing machine going. throwing in his clothes he looked around for the detergent. He turned and accidently brushed off a tin can with things, seemingly massage sticks but when he took a closer look he saw that they were a variety of vibrators or dildos. his mouth ran dry as his mind conjured images of her in the shower, all soaped up and the tip of that purple vibrator disappearing between her legs. A harsh knock on the door jostled him back to the moment he muffled voice behind the door, laced with a slight panic "Hey… Um you okay? You knock your head in or something?" the doorknob twisted slowly as he tried to gather the contend together to put it back.  
But to late, she stood in the door, taking in the scene before her. Pedro Pascal was on his knees, with his ass to the door, in her effing shoe box of a bathroom and tried to gather her collection of dildos and vibrators she kept in the bathroom after cleaning them. Her eyes grew wide as he twisted his neck to gauge her reaction, slowly coming up, turning to face her as he held a G-Spot vibrator and the tin can in his hands. Her gaze dropped to those large and sturdy hands holding a part of her sex life. Both were blushing furiously. Without another word he handed it over to her and pushed past her to go sit on the canape beneath the window. While he brushed her his scent invaded her mind, making her dizzy, like she was floating into another dimension just by the smell of his body.  
She tried to blink herself back to reality, processing what just had happened. Holly turned and risked a glance at her peculiar guest and saw him just sitting on her canape staring holes into the ground. Exhaling forcefully she gathered her toys and stuffed them into the floor unit beneath the sink. After setting the wash she returned, not quiet knowing what to say.  
"Hey... Uhm, I uh... I just wanted to let you know that you can head home and I just drop your clothes off once they're done. Leave me a place or even just a post box where I can leave them and we never have to see each other again if you don't want to." Holly spoke so fast she wasn't even sure if he was able to follow her babbling. And she added even faster "Gosh that was so embarrassing, I should have checked the bathroom first. But it's always like this I meet a nice guy and magically blow it by embarrassing us both."  
Pedro was still so absorbed in the fantasy from earlier that he only registered her last words. His pulse still racing, mouth still dry he fought against his inner goofiness and stood in front of her. "Bonita, listen. You didn't blow anything, I mean that must be the first fun story that started with a glass of milk or a milk related drink." he chortled somewhat awkwardly and inched closer to her, his eyes intently searching her eyes for any sign of her being uncomfortable with his proximity. Her hands came to rest at his chest, eyes shrouded with nervousness, anticipation and lust, bore themselves deep into his. And in the end all it take was a tiny lick with her tongue to wet her lips. He saw the pink tip coming out of her mouth and he was done for. The moment he saw her he couldn't stop thinking about how she would taste, how she would writer underneath him and how her broken sobs would sound as she came undone by his mouth or fingers, hell, if she allowed, even on his cock. So he just went all in. Claiming her mouth with his, locking them both in a heated duel for dominance. Tongues tangled and hands roamed free. Her nimble fingers sliding underneath his borrowed shirt, nails raking down his spine, imprinting herself on him.   
She felt his powerful grip on her hip while the other cradled the side of her face just as lovingly as holding an old lover. A sigh rippled through her body, making her melting into him even more. Her hands reluctantly sild back to his hips only to make their way back up to his hair, that glorious mop of curly dark locks practically begged her to tangle her hands in it. She roughed it up, gently tucking at it until his breath came in ragged moans. But Holly was in it even worse. First she tried to ignore the rush of arousal but it was a loosing battle and she tried to press thighs together to relieve the pressure as she saw him with her toys because that was doing really filthy things to her mind but the second their lips met, she abandoned all hope of remaining intact tonight somehow she knew he would wreck her and that had her panties growing wet like a pier in a storm. She just knew that he would claim her, mark her as his but in the best way. So she widened her stance and wedged herself between him, sandwiching his thigh. His hands wandered down, gripping her bottom, squeezing and kneading it. Jumping onto this opportunity she began to grind down on his thigh, looking for friction, her lust rising and rising. Hazily she remembered to dial it down a notch and not dry humping him like a desperate teenager. So she settled for another approach.  
Feeling her using his thigh to get herself off was the most heady feeling he has had in a long time. He could feel the little puffs of her breath beneath his ear as her head dropped into the crook of his neck and shoulder. Softly nibbling at his pulse point made his knees buckle and his breath catch in his throat. When she lifted her head he felt like something was missing but as their eyes locked he knew he was in for trouble. A dangerous glint took over as she kissed him once more and started to sink down to her knees letting her hands roam over his stomach, legs and finally came to rest at his belt buckle. But before she could claim her price, his hands came to rest, gently stopping her for the moment being. "Bonita please, you don't need to do this, I've seen many fans and eager movie industry workers trying to gain favours or charm their way into the inner circle through those kind of things. Don't feel obliged to do this. Washing my clothes is totally fine." From her position on the floor she looked up at him, chin jutted forwards, giving off an air of fierceness and defiance... As if she was angry with him "Listen, I have a job and even if I didn't I wouldn't wanna work in your field of expertise. So I don't gain anything from this other than my own pleasure by pleasuring you. Maybe I just like sucking dick or maybe I am touch starved and get the same vibe from you. Who knows."  
"Oh Bonita" she heard him whisper as he gently hoisted her up in his arms, locking her in an vice like embrace. She kissed him again, caressing his jaw feeling the slight stubble, enjoying the tickle. Slowly she felt him guide her backwards to the sofa, sitting her down and now it was his turn to kneel, between her legs, hands resting on both thighs. His eyes begged her to let him have his way with her as he pried her pants and panties off her legs. Gently sucking in air, she let the cool air wash over her legs, wondering if this was really happening or if she was just having an incredibly real dream. Nipping his way from her calves to her inner thigh he whispered sweet nothings into her skin, scorching her with the intensity of his gentleness. Before he reached the junction of her thighs he looked up at her, pupils blown wide with lust and a dark promise. He gently spoke "I think we both are rather touch starved, if I read your body right, hermosa." 

Her soft chuckle was invitation enough and both were dead to the world as the sun crept over the skyline of New York, tinting the sky with soft orange hues and tender shades of red.

  
FIN

**Author's Note:**

> P.S. I actually wanted to add the mood board I made but I don't know how, so if you're interested, let me know.


End file.
